


Faulinaun (Or, how Ashes O'Reilly fell in love with the literal heat death of the universe)

by FlorenceDove



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Ashes deserves nice things, Bird People, Cannon Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I like the idea of shy Tim ok?, Jesus why did I write this, Jonny being a little shit, Kinda angst in the second chapter, More tags to be added?, Romance, Slow Burn, Swearing, beacuse who needs a whirlwind romance when you're immortal?, because why the hell not, but like in a murdery way, but otherwise pretty light hearted, no beta we die like the yggdrasil system, oc fic, set just before UDAD, third person pov kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:53:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorenceDove/pseuds/FlorenceDove
Summary: Ashes O'Reilly has lived far too long a life, three millennia, if it's been a day. We all know the story of how this came to be, with the sevens, Mickey, and the tired-looking goth giving them a new set of lungs. What Ashes failed to include in the story, was the girl they fell in love with in their mortal years. After losing her, dying, then burning down their home planet, Ashes figured that was it, chapter closed, onto their new life. But now, thousands of years later, on some backwater planet Jonny dragged them to for a glorified booze run, they run into a far to familiar face; One they watched die in their arms all those years ago.featuring: Jonny being a little shit, Tim being in a constant gay panic, Raphaella being the smartest person in the room yet still forgetting how to function, Brian being the only moral one amongst them, Ivy just wanting a god damn book, Nastya finding a personal heater, Marius trying (and failing) to be a decent conversationalist, Ashes being a downright simp, and all of them being so very traumatized.
Relationships: A hint of Raph/Ivy, Ashes O'Reilly/OC, polymechs
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Bird people and fire flowers don't sound very realistic, Raphaella

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This chapter is kinda more a prologue chapter, but it sheds some critical light on the situation at hand and I'd recommend reading it. Please note, I worked really hard on this, and all criticism and questions are welcomed! The main OC won't be introduced in this chapter, just heavily implied, but will show up in chapter two! In each chapter there will be a sort of 'flashback' mini-chapter, so watch for that with tense changes. I think that's everything, then! Enjoy the story!
> 
> P.S.: I keep writing 'immortal' as 'immoral' and yet it still always applies to these bastards.
> 
> P.P.S: I can't get the indentations to work right and I'm so sorry, please send help

Our story starts as many of their adventures had: With Jonny wanting a drink.  
“Come on, Tim, it’s just one quick stop along the way!” Jonny argues, struggling to keep pace with Tim’s long stride.  
“I’d hardly call three star systems over ‘along the way’” Tim snorts, “Besides, we have plenty of booze on the ship, so why even bother?”  
They make their way towards the brig, undoubtedly where Brian would be. Maybe Jonny could convince the pilot to go along with his quest, and just drag Tim along for the ride.  
“I would bother because it’s something we’ve never drunk before. You heard the drunkard at the bar; A drink made from fruit from an extinct planet! Now, I don’t know about you, but I, for one, think that’s worth going a little out of our way to get.”  
Tim rolls his eyes at Jonny's rambling, wishing nothing more than for the first mate to shut up and let him go back to his guns. They make it to the bridge without any shots being fired and find Brian fiddling with the control panel.  
“Look, Tim, I have the coordinates, all we would need to do is just- Brian! Tell Tim he’s being unreasonable!” Jonny says in lue of a civil greeting. Brian drags his eyes away from the control panel, giving both of them a confused look.  
“Uh…Tim, you’re being unreasonable?” He tries. Jonny throws his hands in the air in blasphemous victory.  
“See! Even Brain thinks it’s a good idea, and you’re just being rude”  
Tim, understandably, rubs his hands over his face. It was too goddamn early in the morning for this shit. He starts to argue, but Brian speaks before he can get a word out.  
“Can someone explain what we’re talking about, I’m a tad lost” Brain questions. Jonny, to his credit, stays quiet, letting Tim explain first.  
“Jonny wants to go on some stupid booze run three star systems away” Tim clarifies, already exhausted with the day despite it being only eight AM in the ship’s time.  
“What my dear Tim meant to say” Jonny starts, grinning wildly, “is that I think we should go find a drink we’ve never tried before. We’ve been around for, what, three millennia now? And not once have we encountered a new type of alcohol. Come on, Brian, you agree with me, right?”  
Brian, who Patiently hears out each party, tilts his head back and forth, contemplating.  
“I think” Brian states after a moment “that we should ask the rest of the crew. After all, we all seemed fairly interested in our destination this time around”  
Jonny snorts.  
“Yes, a city that takes up an entire planet, ruled by some group of alleged immortals. If they’re truly immortal, they’ll still be there by the time we finish getting the goods” Jonny insists.  
Tim has to admit, it is fairly decent logic. Though, he still has his doubts about this adventure.  
“Well, I suppose we should ask what everyone else thinks. Aurora?” The lights flicker slightly at Brian’s calling, indicating the ship was listening. Then again, when was she not, the nosey gossip.  
“Can you please tell everyone to come to the bridge? A decision needs to be made”. The lights flicker once more, presumably a confirmation.  
“Thank you, Aurora”. Now, they wait.

Much to Tim and Brian’s surprise, it only took the whole crew half an hour to assemble. Most of the time, it took far longer. Granted, Marius’s body was being dragged in by a grumbling Ivy, followed closely by a bleeding Raphaella. Nobody bats an eye at this entrance, as to be expected.  
“Do I even want to know what happened this time, Ivy?” Tim sighs. Ivy shrugs, dropping Marius’s body on the floor with a loud thunk. No explanation just yet, then.  
“Ok great, now has anybody seen Ashes and TS?” Jonny asks nobody in particular.  
“I’m Right Here!” A cheerful voice exclaims from behind Jonny. Jumping a few feet in the air, Jonny lets out a startled yell.  
“Fuck! TS, how long have you been here?” He all but shouts. Toy Soldier gives him a stiff salute.  
“I’m Unsure!” It responds happily.  
“Right, well, has anybody seen Ashes, then?” Jonny asks. The crew looks around, a silent question being asked among them. When was the last time anyone had actually seen Ashes, anyway? Luckily, before anyone could respond, the faint smell of smoke filled the bridge. A moment later, the person in question enters the bridge, gloomily smoking a cigarette. Seven pairs of eyes turn towards them; well Toy Soldier as much as possible with painted eyes, but that’s beside the point. They look at everyone, unamused.  
“What?” They snap, taking a long drag off their cigarette. The crew grew a little tenser, nobody wanting to be the first that speaks. They all knew that Ashes sometimes got like this. It was only Ivy, however, that caught onto the fact that they got like this once a year, on the same dates. What caused this gloom, Ivy wasn’t too sure, but it was a 76% chance that it had something to do with the burning of their home planet. Not that she’d ever share that lest she wants to get shot.  
“We’re Having A Crew Meeting About Changing Course!” Toy Soldier chirps, unaware of the tension in the room. Thank whatever god you believed in for small miracles.  
“About what exactly?” They press wearily.  
And so, Jonny explains the story of the man in the bar at the planet they were on, about how he told a story of a tavern that sold a type of new alcohol.  
“So, what do we think?” Jonny finishes, looking around at the faces of the crew.  
“I for one” Raphaella pipes up, “would like to study the effects it has on people. So, I’m in favor of going”. Of course, she would find some scientific reasoning for it.  
“I’m with Raph on this one” Marius, who had come back to himself about halfway through the explanation, chimes in. “Ivy?”  
Ivy shrugs.  
“I’ll go,” She says casually. Well, that’s three of the other six convinced.  
“Brian?” Jonny questions. The Drumbot sighs.  
“I don’t see why not. Like you said, it’s not like those immortal people are going anywhere. What’s another few months or so, anyway?”  
Tim looked around at the crew; He knew that they’d go along with this, but still felt somewhat betrayed.  
“Toy Soldier? What do you think?” Tim asks, knowing the answer.  
“I’m Just Happy To Be Included!”  
“Of course you are, TS” Tim mutters. Jonny, pleased with everyone’s agreement with his (stupid) side quest, claps his hands together, grinning widely at the last member of this whole debacle.  
Ashes, exhaustion pulling at their eyes, takes a long drag of their cigarette.  
“I don’t care, do whatever you want”  
And with just that, they make a hasty, as hasty as one can be when that tired, exit from the bridge.  
Now, they knew that sometimes members of the crew got like this; Gloomy and moody, that is. Everyone had their own way of dealing with it, and this was most certainly not how Ashes dealt with their emotions regularly. Normally, it involved more flames and kerosine. Would any of the crew confront them about this? Most definitely not, at least, not alone.  
They looked at each other, silently questioning one another on the strange behavior. As to be expected, nobody had any explanation or words of wisdom to share.  
“Well then!” Jonny exclaims with a feral grin “Let's go to Alacia”

Shortly after returning to her lab (and spilling what she will simply refer to as science), Raphaella remembers something she could only call odd. Well, as odd as something could get on a ship full of immortal space pirates. She cleans off her hands and goes about rummaging through her desk drawer.  
‘Remind me to ask Ivy to help me organize this place again’ she thinks bitterly to herself. After a moment more of shuffling through a precarious mix of paper clips and poisons, she finds a single folded piece of paper stuffed in the back of the drawer. Unfolding it, she looks at the carefully sketched image of a flower filling most of the page. Looking at the black and white drawing, she thinks back on the event that had sparked its creation, a week or so earlier.

It had been the latest hours of the night, or earliest hours of the morning, depending on how one looks at it. Perfect science hours, Raphaella considered. Sadly, a break in science had to happen eventually, leading to the winged scientist padding into the kitchen to eat real food (she counted tea and crackers as real food, Ivy did not). Stretching out her wings and yawning, the (very tired) scientist placed her mug in the sink before fully registering who was also in the room. The sweet smell of smoke and bourbon hit her nose, causing her to turn to look at the kitchen table that was, after a few centuries, riddled with bullet holes. She jumped slightly when she noticed an imposing figure sitting at the table, smoking a cigar, a drink not far away. Ashes gave her an amused look.  
“Good Evening, Raph. You’re up late” they greeted, taking another drag of their cigar.  
“Good Morning, Ashes. You’re up early” she bit back, dumping her now cold tea down the kitchen sink.  
“Fair enough” Ashes laughed.  
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence; Raphaella washed out her mug while Ashes savored their drink. A few moments passed like that, with the simple sounds of a somewhat domestic routine filling the small kitchen. Ashes were the first to break the silence.  
“Hey, Raph?”  
“Hm?” she questioned over her shoulder. Hearing no response, she turned a bit and saw that Ashes was gesturing to the chair across from them. Confused, but more curious than anything, she sat down slowly. She gave them a curious look, prompting them to say something.  
“You had wings” they started, slowly “Before… you know, the metal ones”  
Whatever Raphaella had expected, it most certainly had not been that.  
“That’s correct,” she said, nodding. The furred brows and contorted expression on Ashes’ face still remained.  
“So you are, or were I guess, an Aviaix, right?” They questioned hesitantly. Raphaella genuinely couldn’t think of any instance of Ashes being so uncomfortable in conversation. Unusually, words flowed from them like honey; Now they were filtered, a dance of sorts.  
“I’m surprised” Raphaella admitted, “Not many people know the proper name for our species. Then again, you’re always full of surprises”. Ashes snorted into their drink, most definitely bourbon, but made no comment as to how they acquired this information. A mystery to unravel another millennia, then.  
“Why do you ask? It’s not common for us to talk about our lives before this” The scientist mused, gesturing to the ship’s walls. Ashes just looked down into their drink swirling the amber liquid.  
“I was wondering if you could tell me about a flower” They finally answered. Rahaella’s brows furrowed in confusion as she tilted her head slightly. The view reminded Ashes slightly of a confused puppy, but that’s neither here nor there.  
“A flower,” she said, deadpan.  
“Yeah, a flower. The fall…full a” they tried stumbling over the word, “full a none?”  
“Oh! The faulinaun!” She said, piecing together the broken syllables. At the word, the quartermaster smiled slightly.  
“Yes, that would be the one” They breathed out. She blinked her eyes in slight shock.  
“My my my, Ashes, you most certainly are full of surprises tonight. I was unaware you knew any words in my native tongue” she admitted, glancing at her friend with a new curiosity.  
“Yes, well, I know a fair few Avix words” they admitted quietly, smiling into their drink. Raphaella’s wings fluttered slightly, from excitement laced with apprehension. She hadn’t known that.  
“What words do you know?” she inquired. Ashes gave her a playful, lazy eye roll.  
“The flower, La Cognizi” They reminded.  
“Right!” Raphaella exclaimed, “Where do I start? The faulinaun was a flower from my home planet before it got blown up, that is. The flower had many unique things about it if I can recall correctly. It would grow only on battlefields and graves, or wherever bodies may have laid. This led it to be called the ‘blood bloom’ by foreigners when our planet made contact with the greater universe. I suppose the closest translation would have been ‘fire flower’, named such after its appearance. I think I see now what you asked about this, my arsonist friend. Anyway, the flower itself looked sort of like a rose, but its petals were hues of bright oranges and reds and yellows, giving it a fire-like appearance. This appearance was then amplified at night, when the flowers seemingly glowed, and let out their pollen which also glowed, looking like embers in the night sky.”  
She took a big breath, pausing for a moment to gauge Ashes’ reaction to this information. The quartermaster, to their credit, simply tilted their drink at her, signaling her to continue on her ramble.  
“Anyway, once the outside universe set foot on our planet, perhaps two hundred years or so before I was born, strict trade laws were put on these flowers, so you won’t find them anywhere else in the universe I'm afraid,” she admits sadly. Now that her home planet was destroyed, it was highly unlikely that the flowers were still in existence.  
“That’s alright, I’m not too keen on finding them anyway. As luck would have it, I’m a shit gardener, so it probably wouldn’t survive very long.” They said humorously, though a small thread of sadness laced through their voice as they spoke. Nodding, Raphaella stood from the kitchen chair, stretching out her body with a satisfying yawn.  
“While I’m incredibly curious about how you acquired all this knowledge about my home planet, I’m also very tired” She explained, pushing in the chair. As she turned towards the kitchen door, Ashes spoke.  
“Hey, Raph?”  
“Yes?” she responded, glancing over her shoulder (and tucking her wing a bit) to see Ashes’ slumped figure. They opened their mouth to say something, but then closed it and shook their head.  
“Thank you, Raph. Get some sleep” they said instead.  
“You too, Ashes” she called over her shoulder as she left the room. A bitter laugh followed her out, the smell of smoke clinging to her as she went.

The morning after that night, after Ivy had walloped her in the head for not eating, Raphaella remembers she was bored in her lab, and, avoiding one of Jonny and Tim’s gunfights, decided to draw the faulinaun. Looking at it now, it was a pretty picture, yet it lacked the beauty the bloom itself held. So, she marches over to a cabinet in her lab, pulls out a pack of colored pencils Marius had given her a few years prior and begins to color in the fiery hues of the blood bloom.  
Several hours, and hand cramps, later, the drawing was complete. Gone are the black and white shading of the petals, now replaced with bold oranges, reds, and yellows. Incredibly satisfied with her work, she hops out of her desk chair and starts to make her way to Ashes’ room. After the gloomy display in the bridge this morning, she figures that they could use some cheering up. This drawing would do just the trick! And probably get her shot, knowing Ashes, but she’s going to ignore that possibility for right now. Luckily, the trek wasn’t far, and soon she found herself standing in front of Ashes’ door. Going to knock, she hesitates for a moment. This very well could get her shot. Maybe it’d be best to just slide it under the door and run away? Fortunately, or unfortunately perhaps, for the scientist, she doesn’t have to make that choice, as the door slides open, revealing a tired, and probably drunk Ashes. They look just as surprised as Raphaella felt.  
“Raphaella,” they say, blinking.  
“Ashes,” she says, unblinking.  
She shuffled around nervously for a second, not knowing how to explain this.  
“Is there something I can help you with?” They ask, trailing off at the end.  
“Right, well, you see” She starts, stammering her way into an explanation, “I made this for you a few days ago and forgot about it. I, uh, figured you might want it.” Shoving the paper into their chest, she takes a step back, waiting for Ashes to pull a gun out. They unfold the paper, glancing over its content. Raphaella tenses her wings, ready to flee at a moment's notice.  
Except, no gun is being pulled out. Instead, a small smile graces the quartermaster’s lips.  
“Thank you, Raphaella, I- just, thank you. It means a lot” they said, not looking up from the page. She simply nods, unsure of what to say. While this was the reaction she had hoped for, it wasn’t the reaction she had expected. Oh, Ivy will get a kick out of this. Glancing up from the paper, Ashes looks at her with drunkenly glazed over eyes and a little smile.  
“She would have liked you”  
And then they shut the door. Raphaella blinks once. Twice.  
“Right,” she says to the grey (now closed) door, before turning down the hallway towards the kitchen. Ivy would have her head if she knew that the scientist hadn’t eaten in two days.  
Thinking as she walks down the corridor, some pieces start to come together for Raphaella. The biggest one being the first time she had met the fire loving Ashes O’Reilly

It had been her first day on the Aurora, and she was tied up with copious amounts of rope that annoyingly dug into her skin. The only two people she had seen up until that point were Jonny and Tim. Then walked in the beautiful Ashes, holding a cigar in one hand, and a gun in the other. They looked down at her, taking a drag from their cigar. After a moment of looking her over, they simply said, to no one in particular  
“I knew a girl with wings once”  
And walked out of the room. She didn’t see them for a week or so after that and had mostly forgotten about the comment by then.

Now walking down the corridor to the kitchen, Raphaella thought back on that comment. Then about the talk, the two of them had a week or so ago. Then about what just happened.  
She shook her head, letting the pieces being put together fall apart again. If she valued her life, she really didn’t want to know.  
After all, it wasn’t her business, anyway.


	2. Brian said no burning things, so we robbed a few bars and resurfaced past trauma insted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim can't flirt, Jonny gets his throat ripped out, Marius is a horrid conversationalist, Ivy just wants to learn, Brian makes new friends, Raphaella picks (and loses) a fight, and Ashes sees a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this is a MEATY chapter, at like, over 7k words. Do I apologize? yes. Also, please note that the POV kinda jumps all over the place because the sarcastic narrator can't be in three places at once, and she's salty about it. As with all the chapters, there is a 'flashback' so watch for the tense change. Once again, all comments, feedback, and criticism are appreciated, and I'll be happy to answer any questions! Besides that, have fun with the sheer chaos! :)

Two months passed by in the usual fashion, with copious gunfights, poisonings, tea with teeth (don’t ask), and TS getting shoved out the airlock at one point. So, after an uneventful detour, the crew of the Aurora finds themselves on the planet of Alacia. Specifically, the town of Folly, a small port town that rarely saw any visitors. The planet itself was small, about the size of the moon Tim so lovingly blew up quite some years ago, and sparsely populated at about fifty million inhabitants. The town of Folly only boosted a mere twenty-five thousand, quite small for a port town. To be fair, it wasn’t the main port town of the backwater planet, so it didn’t get nearly as much traffic as one might expect. Still, it was a quaint, charming little town.   
“Alright, Let’s burn the place!” Jonny announces once the town is insight. Ashes, now out of their gloom, smirks and flicks their lighter.   
“No, Jonny” Brian sighs, giving a pointed look at Ashes for good measure, “remember what we agreed on? No burning the place until we find the alcohol, got it?”   
The rest of the crew, save for Ivy, groaned in annoyance. Brian was still on MJE and would be damned if the agreement they had all made for this trip was violated. He raised a metal eyebrow at the lot.  
“Well?” He prompts. Various verbal conformations were muttered out, some more mocking than others. He’ll take it as a win.   
The crew wanders closer to the town and finds the setting to be a little, well, bizarre. Buildings made of stone and external wooden beams boasting steep roofs lined cobblestone streets. In short, the town was medieval-looking, a stark contrast to the high tech aesthetic of most port cities they visited. Though, judging by the lights in the windows, the traffic signs, the fountains, and the lamp posts, the town had modern amenities like electricity and running water.   
No matter, they were going to burn it all in the end, anyway.   
The sun starts to set over the horizon, lining the forests outside the cozy town with soft pinks and oranges. Truly, a picturesque scene Ashes couldn’t wait to drench in kerosine.   
Finally making it into what appears to be the heart of the port town, the group pauses, unsure of their next actions. Normally, they’d have started shooting by now, but the agreement made with Brian leaves them a little lost. Damn Drumbot and his morals.   
“Well, what do we do now, Brian?” Jonny asks the pilot snarkily. Brian rolls his eyes at the first mate’s petty jab.   
“If you’d be so kind as to pull out the instructions the drunk man from the bar gave you, that might clue us in as to what to do next” he replies with an equal amount of sass. Tim coughs to cover his laugh, while Ashes and Ivy tilt their heads away to hide small smiles. Only do Raphaella and Marius openly laugh at the spat in front of them. Grumbling curses under his breath, Jonny pulls out what appears to be a bar napkin with scribbled blue ink.   
“It says here that we need to find the…oh fucking hell, the ink is smudged. We need to find the ‘something tavern’” he announces.   
“And how exactly are we going to do that?” Tim asks mockingly. He may still be a tad bitter over coming to this planet in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there. The crew starts shouting out their own ideas, which range anywhere from ‘find a map’ to, ‘just burn the buildings and see which ones smell like booze the most’. Not entirely helpful, overall. Marius, however, finds himself with a better solution. Noticing a man standing outside a shop on the other side of the town square, the baron doctor, who is really neither of those things, starts to wander towards the man.   
What he notes first, is the man’s appearance and clothes. The fashion appears to be some mix between Edwardian and modern. An odd combination to say the least. Not that Marius minds the sight of the man before him in a form-fitting lavender corset vest paired with dress pants.   
“Good evening!” Marius says in greeting. The man, startled, looks up from where he was watering the plants outside the store (a tea shop, Marius notes. Might have to stop by later to get some more tea for TS), and blinks owlishly at him through his round glasses.   
“Hello there,” the man chirps, setting down the watering can and giving Marius a bright smile “How can I help you, sir?”   
The good (arguable) doctor blushes at the formality, slightly distracted. Shaking his head a bit, the violinist gets his bearings together.   
“Yes, well, I was hoping you might be able to point me in the direction of the tavern,” he says, willing his voice not to crack. Damn him, he may be an immortal who’s lived a long life thus far, but attractive people still make him so very awkward. The man gives him an amused little smile.  
“Which one?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of him. Marius sputters a bit as the man leans against the doorframe.   
“I’m sorry?”   
“Which Tavern?” he clarifies with a small laugh. Before he could respond, the man stiffens and takes the slightest step back towards the wooden door of the shop. Marius doesn’t even have to look behind him to know that the others are there, he can just tell based on the sweet man’s reaction alone.   
“How many taverns are there in this town exactly?” Tim asks. The man looks down at the ground.   
“Three. Follow each of the three main roads out of the town square, and you’ll find the taverns” he replies curtly “Goodnight, then”  
And with that, the man slips into the door of the shop and shuts it hastily. Well, at least they got the information they needed. Shuffling back over to the fountain in the center of the town square, the crew starts to plan.   
“Ok, so three taverns. No problem. Anyone have any suggestions?” Ashes muses to no one in particular. All eyes, subconsciously, turn to Ivy. She’s usually the best at planning these sorts of things   
“Alright,” She sighs “It would be most efficient to go in groups. I recommend sending Jonny with Brian, as Jonny is the most likely to cause trouble”   
This is met with murmured agreements and one undignified shout of offense, yet no complaints. A moment passes, and groups are decided amongst the crew: Jonny with Brian (obviously), Ashes with Marius, and Tim, Raphaella, and Ivy in a trio. They fully expected to lose Ivy to a library or bookstore along the way. Not an uncommon occurrence on planetside outings.   
“Alrighty then, to booze!” Jonny declares, dragging a protesting Brian towards the southernmost road. Rolling their eyes, Ashes starts walking towards the West road, with Marius trailing behind them, chattering away. Raphaella looks towards the East road, inclining her head at the other two members of the party.   
“Come on,” she says with a gesture of her wings, “I think I saw a sign that said the library was down this way as well”. The group starts to meander down the cobbled roads, taking in the sights of the strange town. As the sun sets even further beyond the horizon, more and more people start to emerge from buildings, not even sparing a quizzical glance at the out of place trio. Going at a leisurely pace, they take in the sights of the city, each noting different details as they go along. Ivy, who was walking with linked arms with Raphaella, halts abruptly, tugging the scientist to a halt. Tim, who was walking behind them, crashed into the pair. He patted Raphaella’s shoulder apologetically at the collision.   
“You ok, Ivy?” Tim asks, mildly annoyed. Ivy brushes her hand over a torso sized carving in the building next to them.  
“This relief is on almost every building we’ve passed,” she remarks. Raphaella can practically hear the cogs turning in her head as she analyzes the image.   
The logo itself wasn’t anything unusual. A circular stone carving of what appeared to be a bird rising from the flames below it. A phoenix, then. Ironic, considering they planned to burn the place to the ground  
“It could be the town’s insignia” Tim offered. Ivy nodded, running some probability in that beautiful mind of hers.   
“Actually,” A new voice chimed in, “It’s a protection symbol”  
A young man, maybe early twenties, stood in front of them on the sidewalk, clutching a to-go drink container in his gloved hands. Bundled up in a large grey cardigan over a dark blue corset vest, this man looks warm enough to survive the cold vacuums of space. The cardigan pooled around his small frame, looking far too large for his narrow shoulders. I suppose even Raphaella had to admit that it was quite cold out, being winter time here and all.   
“Oh, a protection symbol? Is it religious?” Ivy questions the man intrigued. He titles his head back and forth, contemplating the question.   
“Not entirely. It's more…well, it's complicated. The town archivist would do a much better job at explaining it than I ever could” He rambles, gesturing with a dainty hand.   
“And where might we find the archivist?” Ivy inquires. Glancing back at Tim, Raphaella notes that he’s gone awfully quiet, and his eyes are glued to the man in front of them. She rolls her eyes at him.   
“She’s in the library, which is that building right over there” he points to a building a block or so down with large steps in front of it.   
“Ah, thank you very much,” Ivy says in a matter-of-fact manner before turning on her heel and practically marching towards the library. Raphaella, who had unlinked arms with her archivist sometime during the conversation, shakes her head as she watches Ivy go.   
“Sorry about her” Tim sighs, “she's a tad task-driven” The man nods his head.  
“Hey man, I wish I had that much ambition” he laughed.   
“I don’t suppose you could tell us where the tavern might be as well” Raphaella interjects. She has a feeling that this conversation might go on a bit longer than expected if Tim had anything to say about it.   
“Ah, yes. Just three more blocks down the road, can’t miss it. Though, we- it’s closed today” He replies, frowning slightly. Getting a better look at the scientist, the man’s eyes are drawn slightly behind her.   
“Those are wings” he states, deadpan. Raphaella gives a theatrical look over her shoulder at the metal limbs.   
“Yes, I suppose they are,” she replies casually. The man glances between the two of them, a little wearier than before.   
“Are you here for Nix then?”  
Tim and Raphaella look at each other, confused. An oddly specific question usually had an interesting answer.   
“What’s Nix?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly. The man gives a short laugh, tipping his head back slightly to look up at the gunman.   
“Ah, I suppose not then. That’s quite the relief, actually. Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I really must be going to work. Good night then, travelers, hopefully, i’ll see y’all around sometime soon” And with a wink and a smile (directed mostly towards Tim), the man is off down the street.   
“What an odd man” Raphaella muses mostly to herself “Well, come on, Tim, let’s find Ivy before she decides she wants to take the whole library back to the Aurora”  
Not that that had ever happened before.   
Tim shook his head, letting his mane of curly hair flop over his shoulders.   
“Why is it that the people we’re meeting on this planet are so damn pretty?” he grumbles, starting towards the library. The sun had set by now, leaving the street to be lit by the orange glow of the stone lamp posts.   
“Well, you saw how Marius was looking at the man from the tea shop. Maybe we could convince the crew to postpone their city-wide bonfire so we can enjoy all this town has to offer” She reasons. The gunman smiled slightly to himself at the idea of it.   
It wasn’t common, necessarily, for the crew to seek out others while planetside; they mostly found good company in that regard amongst themselves. Though, it wasn’t a rare occurrence, either, so they had a shot of enjoying a night with some strangers if they played their cards right.   
“Let's just get to the library; Maybe there'll be some relief from all this pretty madness,” Tim says dramatically. With that, the scientist and the master at arms were off to track down their archivist. 

The Library, it seems, did not provide the relief Tim was looking for. When the pair entered the large front room of the library, they found Ivy deeply engaged in a conversation with a woman in a suit with long blonde hair that was shaved on one side. Raphaella took note of exactly when Tim’s face fell despondently. Amusing, if you we’re to ask her.   
Waltzing up behind Ivy, Raphaella casually places a hand around her archivist’s waist.   
“Hello, love” she greets with a small peck on the cheek “find anything useful?” Ivy hums in response, giving the library’s archivist a small smile.   
“Miss Howl here was telling me all about the history of the firebird symbol” Ivy explains. The dark wood of the library paired with the yellow glow of it’s lights gave Ivy’s face a particularly angelic glow, an image Raphaella would treasure for some decades to come.   
“Is that so? How interesting” she muses.   
“Oh please, just call me Adrian. And yes, well, the insignia itself is actually very critical to the history of the- oh my, those are wings” The archivist, Ardian exclaims abruptly.   
“I believe they are, yes” She replies blandly. Adrian’s eyebrows furrow a little.   
“Have you come for Nix?” she questions. Raphaella’s face scrunched up in annoyed confusion.   
“Again with that question; what the hell is a Nix?” She grumbles. The archivist lets out a breath she’d been holding onto.   
“Oh good, you’re not here for Nix. It’d be a tad bit of a pain if you were. Now, is your friend going to say hello, or stand over there like a shy little boy hiding behind his mother’s skirt?” She asks, arching an eyebrow at the man in question. Tim, noticing her gaze, looks down at the marble floor, fiddling with his hands. Raphaella rolled her eyes at him, yet Ivy was the first to speak.   
“Tim, you have fought in wars, have committed countless crimes, and blew up the moon for fuck’s sake; it’s not that scary to come to say hi” The first part was actually a quote from Jonny, though she can’t remember the context in which it was said. It seemed to do the trick though, as Tim starts to wander closer to the group, stopping just behind Raphaella and Ivy.   
“I’m sorry, did you just say that he blew up the moon?” Adrian asks, eyeing the gunman suspiciously. Tim tilts his head back down towards the ground, saying nothing.  
“An inside joke” Raphaella claims with a less than reassuring smile. Nodding slightly, the librarian archivist just brushes off the previous comment.  
“Right then,” she says, shaking her head as if to break out of a daze, “I promised Miss Alexandria here that I'd show her the town’s historic archives. You’re more than welcome to join if you’d like”   
Raphaella looks at Tim, who’s looking anywhere but at the woman. The scientist decides to take pity on him.   
“We’d love to, but sadly we’re on a quest to find a tavern; we should be going,” She says apologetically. Adrian gives them a small smile.  
“Well, if you’re certain. I’m sure Miss Alexandria and I will have plenty of fun on our own, won’t we?” Ivy looks between Raphaella, Tim, and Adrian for a moment, before seriously saying.   
“Based on what you’ve already told me, there is a 67% chance I will, in fact, have fun” Tim snorted at the humorless statement, but said nothing. As Adrian turns towards the doors that Tim could only assume lead to the archives, he spots something poking out of Adrian’s hair.   
“Oh, miss, you um, have something on the back of your head” he calls out. Turning back to look at him, frowning, Adrian runs a hand along the back of her head, only to pluck out a large feather from her hair. She lets out a surprised hum but says nothing as she places the fire-colored feather behind Ivy’s ear, continuing on through the doors.   
Raphaella watches the pair as they go through the door, then turn towards the exit.   
“Come on, Tim” She calls cheerfully, “we have a tavern to rob”   
Sighing, Tim follows the mad scientist out the door, into the cold night. Why did he agree to come here again? Oh wait, that’s right: he didn’t 

After walking a few blocks, bickering about which way to go, and walking some more, the pair finally reached what they think is the tavern. The red sign outside notes that the establishment is called ‘The Inferno’. Oh, Ashes is going to be mad they missed this one.   
“Well, I think this is the place!” she chirps, swinging open the large oak door, “and remember Brian’s rules: No shooting until we are sure that this place has what we’re looking for”  
And with that, they entered The Inferno.   
What they found was a tavern as simple as one might find on any given planet. Dark oak wood made up the floors, tables, cabinetry, and bar counter, accented with swirls of red and gold. While the aesthetic was quite nice, that’s not the most interesting part about the scene in front of them. No, what was interesting was the dainty man in the blue corset vest behind the counter, fighting with a ladder; the one who had stopped them on the street earlier. Hearing the commotion by the front door, the man, who had shed his oversized cardigan, looked over at the pair, smiling sheepishly as he tilted the ladder against the wall.   
“Hello again, strange travelers!” He greeted, “while it is quite lovely to see you both again, sadly, we are closed today.”   
Tim, much to Raphaella’s surprise, sauteed up to the counter, leaning forward over it.   
“Yes, we know. My friend and I were actually hoping that you could answer a question for us” he says in a friendly, borderline flirty tone. The scientist bit back a gag at the display.   
I’ll save you from the atrocious flirting, if not to scar your brain. We’ll instead focus on the Sparks Saloon located on the other side of town, where our first mate and pilot were having arguably worse luck.   
Upon arriving at the well-lit bar, Jonny and Brian noticed two things: Firstly, the sound of music flowing through the air, followed by the second thing, the smell of smoke. Not quite like the smell of Ashes’ smoky smell, which was sharper like fire laced with chemicals, no, this was more like a campfire smoke smell. And the music? It sounded to be a somber, almost seductive sounding melody, paired with stomps and claps in lue of any actual instruments.   
Jonny goes to pull out the gun strapped to his hip, but Brain lays a hand over it to stop him, shaking his metal head slightly. Rolling his eyes, Jonny lets out a huff but doesn’t reach for the gun again. The pair step farther into the joint, getting a full view of the room.   
The floors were a light wood, giving the place a warm and open glow. The bar, made of the same light wood paired with white trim, took up the leftmost side of the room, with the front acting as some sort of stage, and the rest being various forms of seating. At the bar was the source of the singing; two people, one behind the counter, cleaning glasses, the other perched atop the bar itself, legs swinging over the front of it. The person behind the counter had their back to the pair of pirates, but Jonny could tell that they were the ones singing the lower notes whilst happily fiddling with something in front of them. But, they’re not the one who catches Jonny’s eye.   
No, it’s the person atop the bar that gets Jonny’s attention. Long deep red hair spills over her broad, olive shoulders. Her short, bright red dress matches her red lips, all topped off with black combat boots. In short, the girl looked like a fire incarnate. Her eyes are closed as she sings in soprano, clapping her hands and stomping her feet against a barstool to create a beat.  
It’s a peaceful scene, the two singing. Sadly, it didn’t last very long, as Brian coughed a bit, gaining their attention. The singing ceased. The barkeeper went stiff, setting down whatever glass they were working on. They gave the pair a questioning look as they turned their head away from the wall. Sighing, the fire girl, in an almost predatory fashion, slowly opened her eyes to look at who interrupted their song. Brian flinches as her gaze reaches him. Her eyes, much like her dress, are a burning red with flecks of gold and white. She says nothing. Instead, it’s the barkeep that speaks first.   
“Hello there,” they start, running a pale hand through their close-cropped brown hair “Can I help you two with something? We’re closed for another hour, but there’s a bar open not too far from here if you’re looking for a drink”   
Jonny, in his true fashion, gives them a feral grin and walks up to the counter.   
“Jonny-” Brian sighs, cut off by the man himself.   
“Good evening, sorry, didn’t realize the place was closed-”  
“There’s literally a closed sign on the front door but ok” the fire girl interrupts bluntly.   
“Yes well, I didn’t exactly see that, but we’re here now. I was wondering if you sold a specific type of alcohol. You see, I was told by a very drunk man some four-star systems over that-Oh what the hell?” he cuts himself off noticing a large feather fall gently on his hand. He picks it up, frowning.   
“Sorry,” the fire girl next to him says, unapologetically, “Those have a tendency to fall out at the worst moments”   
About to make a sarcastic remark about where they might be coming from, Jonny looks up to see something he feels like he should have noticed earlier.   
“Those are wings” he states blandly. The girl, who couldn’t be much older than twenty, gives him a flat look.   
“And he’s made of metal,” she says, jerking her head towards Brain, who still stood awkwardly near the entrance. Feeling an argument was about to break out, The barkeep intervenes.  
“Yes, Yes, now that we’ve gotten the obvious out of the way, you said you were here for a drink correct? Let me guess; A drink never heard of before in all the cosmos and said to get you drunk from even the slightest drop?” they say in an almost rehearsed fashion. Brian has a feeling that this isn’t their first time dealing with this. The girl on the counter is failing at holding back a grin.   
“That sounds about right, yes” Jonny muses, leaning fully on the counter.   
“Well, we don’t sell it here,” the barkeep says, bored, “However, the place that does is on the other side of town. Though, I wouldn’t go there if I were you”  
Brian watches as the girl’s shoulders start shaking with silent laughter.   
“And why is that?” Jonny questions, annoyed. The barkeep looks towards the girl, then back at the feral first mate.   
“Because the owner is a right bitch”   
The girl loses it, having to back flap her wings to not topple off the counter in her laughter. Both Jonny and Brian go to ask for clarification, but the barkeep continues on.  
“Honestly, the absolute worst. She’s always so loud, harass partons, vandalizes city property-”  
“It was one god damned building!” the girl starts.  
“And” the barkeep shouts “She leaves her feathers fucking everywhere!”   
Now, by this point, Brian had put two and two together, much faster than Jonny, I may add.   
“You own the bar across town,” the pilot says, more to himself than anybody. Leaping off the counter, the girl took a deep bow.   
“That is correct! I own the Inferno Tavern, where we make and sell what I like to call angel's blood” Jonny’s smile becomes deranged once more.   
“Marvelous!” he says, pulling out his gun, “take us there, and we’ll let your friend here live”   
Brian groans. Technically, it didn’t break the rules, but can they, for once, just have a peaceful time planetside?  
However, much to both the mechanism’s surprise, the barkeep and the girl simply look at Jonny with blank expressions. The girl turns towards the barkeep and moves her index finger in a downward motion. The barkeep starts to slide under the bar itself.   
“Why do I always get dragged into this?” they grumbled from under the counter.   
“So what exactly is your grand plan here, space cowboy?” the girl asks.   
“Well you see, you’re going to take us to your bar, give us all of this ‘angle blood’ as you call it, and I promise I’ll try not to shoot you”   
“So if I refuse, you’re going to shoot me?”   
“Yes”   
“With that gun right there?” she asks, looking at his pistol. Annoyance was visible on Jonny’s face, yet a small thread of curiosity wove through his mind.   
“Yes, with this gun. Now, my patience is going very thin-”   
“Do you have a gun?” she says to Brian, cutting Jonny off. Brian looks between the two of them, uncertain.   
“Well, yes but I’d rather not use it if I don’t have to” he stutters out.   
“Understandable,” the girl says nodding sympathetically “Not one to relish violence; I can admire that”   
Jonny lets out something between a growl and an irritated groan.  
“Very admirable. I would admire if we got moving, as I’d really like-”   
Jonny was, once again, cut off by the girl. This time, however, it was due to her hand being plunged into his throat with a terrible wet crunch. She looks him dead in the eye as she pulls his throat out, and lets his body crumple to the floor. Letting his bloody windpipe fall to the ground beside him, she looks up at Brian.   
“Apologies about you friend,” she says, not insincerely.   
“It’s fine, he kinda deserves it anyway,” the drumbot says with a shrug.   
“Well, that sounded messy” came a surprised voice from under the counter.   
“Yeah, I wouldn’t look at this one, Finch,” the girl says, kicking Jonny’s corpse “I ripped his throat out”  
“Phoenix! That’s gonna be a bitch to clean up!” the barkeep, Finch, scolds. The girl, who Brian notes as Phoenix, winces slightly.   
“Sorry, sorry, he just wouldn’t shut up”   
She leans down to get a closer look at the dead first mate’s face, turning it in her hands.   
“You know, the bloke actually looks kinda familiar” she muses. Now, if she had any more time to think about it, she would probably be able to piece together where she knew the small man from; Hell, it might have saved her some of the shock of later events. Sadly, her time analyzing was cut short by a very large man bursting through the saloon’s doors, slamming them behind him. Almost seven feet tall, and built like a bear, this man doesn’t look like anything this side of the plant should scare him. However, the wild look and shallow breaths he takes tell a different story. Poking their head up to see the commotion, Finch frowns at the bloody pile of Jonny, then at the bear man.   
“Teddy is that you?” They ask, popping up from under the counter “Jesus, you look wrecked, what happened?”   
The man frantically locks the doors behind him, babbling on as he does   
“Oh my god, Fin, Nix, someone came to rob my bar, and they didn’t die”  
Phoenix and Finch look at each other, confused   
“Did you try, you know, shooting them?” Finch asks. Brian has a terrible feeling he already knows where this is going.   
“Yes, I shot them both in the head and they didn’t- wait, who the hell are you? And what the hell is that?” The man asks, looking at Brain and Jonny respectively.   
“It doesn’t matter” Phoenix snaps “now sit down, have a drink, and please explain what happened”  
So the man sits, Finch pours both him and Brian a drink, and Teddy starts on about the event. 

Now, a little while earlier, Ashes and Marius had reached the Charcoal Club, a grey building with orange lights.   
Upon entering the bar, the pair note the shades of dark grey, paired with orange neon lights. The club’s entrance sits on the top floor, a balcony which is made up of a chrome bar and various plush seating. Below the balcony lies an open dance floor surrounded by even more lounge seating. Behind the bar stands a mammoth of a man, taking inventory of the bottles behind the counter, and serving the few patrons in the club.   
Ashes smirks, pulls out their gun, and fires three shots into the air. The patrons duck down, drinks spilling, screams echoing off the grey walls.   
“What the hell, Ashes? We promised Brian we wouldn’t shoot just yet” Marius yells.   
“Does it look like Brain’s here right now? Besides, I’ve had a shit few months and I’d like to get something out of my system” they growl out, prowling towards the bar.   
“Fair enough,” Marius says with a shrug, pulling out his own gun and trailing after the arsonist.   
The bartender by now had ushered his patrons behind the bar, and they’d somehow disappear. There was a secret exit for an event such as this, you see. Glancing up from below the counter, the man looked at the pair of bandits, displeased.   
“Can I help you folks with something?” he asks with an arched eyebrow. Neither Marius nor Ashes holster their guns, favoring instead to hold them loosely in one hand, pointed at the ground. Ashes stay silent, letting Marius do the talking; he always has been the chatty one, anyway. As the doctor drones on to the bartender, who’s nodding politely, but still very agitated, Ashes takes a better look at the bar itself. While the siding is shiny chrome metal, the countertop was made up of various photos all chaotically scrapbooked together under a thick sheet of glass. Their hand, the one not holding the gun, lay flat atop the largest of the images. The picture was black and white and showed the tall man behind the bar (who appeared to be the one taking the photo) and a few other people sitting around a stage with various instruments. A man in the back holding a flute, they recognized as the same man who they met at the tea shop earlier that day, but the other two were strangers. A woman with long blonde hair that was buzzed on one held a guitar, leaning against a person with short buzzed brown hair widely waving what appeared to be drumsticks in their hands. They smile faintly at the image, knowing that a similar one must exist somewhere for their band. For a moment, they stare, then the arsonist notices an arm peeking out from underneath their hand. Sliding it over to reveal a fifth person, Ashes’ heart nearly stops entirely at the face staring back at them. A girl, looking to be no older than twenty, with long hair and wings, holds an old fashioned microphone, smiling into the camera, maybe even singing.   
Mind racing with possibilities, Ashes tries to rationalize why, how, this picture can be real. While it may not have been in color, the quartermaster still recognizes the delicate wings, the broad shoulders, the ever so slightly crooked nose-  
Memories. Long forgotten, repressed memories start to surface. Flashes of scenes paired with emotions: happiness, anger, sadness, grief, and love, all flood them within seconds. They start to spiral, only to be pulled out by a deafening bang to their left.   
Snapping out of their daze, still slightly confused, Ashes sees Marius’s body slumped on the floor in a pool of blood, and the bartender pointing a gun at their own head. Guess Maruis wasn’t as good a conversationalist as he claims to be. They look at the bartender, eyes wild with confusion.   
“Where is she? Where’s-” they start to ask. Before the bartender can even acknowledge the question, he fires the gun. For a brief moment, maybe before the bullet leaves the gun, or maybe just before it hits their head, who's to say, they are pulled back into memory so long ignored. The memory of when they first saw their love's face. 

It had been a muggy summer evening, Ashes remembers that much. Malone’s twin suns had set hours ago, and yet the insufferable, humid heat still remained. They were sixteen-no, no they were seventeen by this point, still years before they burned that place to the ground, anyway. They stood in what they had called the throne room, a grand meeting hall in one of the seven’s hotels where uncle mickey had liked to hold gatherings. That day, however, the meeting had fewer people, six of their own, including Ashes, and two strangers. A far cry indeed from the usual hundreds. The room had seemed so big in those moments, they recall. They stood faithfully by their uncle’s side, where he sat in a lavish velvet armchair, smoking a cigar. Who else from the sevens was there, Ashes couldn’t recall, but that's not the important part. No, the important part was the stranger, a man, standing a healthy distance in front of where Micky and Ashes were. Next to him was a frail girl, around their own age at the time, scrawny as can be, with wings of all things. They faintly remember their astonishment at seeing someone with wings; It amused them looking back at it. The girl reminded Ashes of the fire they loved so much, with long red hair, red wings. The small, satin white dress she wore gave her an almost angelic glow. They masked their features to a neutral expression once more, looking at the pair, bored.   
“Well, what do we have here?” Micky laughed out after taking a long drag of his cigar. The man gave him a predatory smile.   
“My name is Dr. Audubon, but please, call me Auto” he introduced with a nod. Micky took another slow drag, his eyes falling to the frail figure beside the well-dressed man.   
“And what, Dr. Audubon, is that angel right there?” he asked blandly. The man tightened his grip around the chain in his hand, which was firmly attached to irons around the girl’s wrists. As they stopped focusing on her wings, Ashes noticed that the girl was chained in several places, and had an iron bared mask over her mouth. Her eyes were facing the ground.   
“She’s a proposition to you,” he said. Micky nodded and made a hand gesture for him to continue.   
“I would like to open up shop here on Malone. You see, I found an interesting planet filled with these exquisite creatures, that I believe many people would pay a handsome price for” he explained, sharp-toothed and cunning. Ashes’ remember their stomach rolling in nauseous waves, disgust at the man clear on their face. While they may have been an illegal group, that was a line even the seven’s refused to cross. Micky, however, nodded, taking one last drag of his cigar before he stood to walk over to the pair. He looked back and jerked his head in a silent request for Ashes to follow. Taking a long drag of their own cigar, they followed in suit, matching their uncle’s lazy stride. He stopped about five feet in front of the two strangers, Ashes just behind him. Closer then, they could see dark bruises peppering the girl’s scrawny frame. After they silently took note of all the scars and scratches, they looked up to find the girl stared directly at them. They met her gaze, and they remember thinking her eyes, a deep red similar to her hair, looked like two small flames that burnt bright with rage.   
“And do those wings actually work?” Micky’s voice brought them back to reality. The doctor, pleased with the questions, frowned slightly.   
“Well, they are fully functional, yes, but their species, the Aviax, have an interesting tradition of clipping the female’s wings. While the feathers do grow back, I got this one when she was ten, and in the six years I've had her, I've come to the conclusion she was never taught how to fly. ” the doctor rambled. Micky, ever the business man, smiled and nodded, and spared glances over to the girl every once in a while as the doctor continued on about the species.   
“To top it all off, this songbird here,” the doctor said, reaching a hand out to the girl “has the voice of an angel” his hand grazed under her delicate chin, to which she pulled back with a feral snarl, wings flapping wildly. The doctor sighed.   
“A fiery little thing, isn’t she?” Micky questioned amused.   
“Sadly, yes. Her mother was the same way, and no matter how hard I try she still isn’t quite tame yet”   
Ashes weren’t sure they wanted to know what his version of ‘trying’ was.  
“You know what I think,” Mickey said, pulling a gun from his belt, “I think that you’re a piece of shit, and should burn in the hottest fires of hell.” and with that, he shot the doctor point-blank, right in the head. The girl startled a bit at the noise but just watched as his body crumpled onto the floor, his hand releasing the chain. She blinked in surprise and looked between Mickey and the man.   
“Ashes, if you’d be so kind as to get those things off of her” Mickey said, handing them a key which he’d gotten from the dead doctor’s pocket.   
“Right,” they said, slightly shocked. They tried to move closer to the girl, but she backed away, wings flared slightly in a warning. They put their hands up, key looped around their thumb. The girl gave them a long look before she stepped hesitantly closer, and allowed Ashes to start on the various locks. They started with the ankles, then moved to the ones around her shoulders hindering the wings, then to the wrists, and finally, they slowly wrapped their hands around the girl’s head to unlock the iron mask. While they looked directly into her eyes, Ashes removed the mask, which revealed cracked, pink lips curled ever so slightly into a smile. She let out a sigh of relief, which Ashes remember smelled distinctly like sweet smoke. They returned to Mickey’s side after a moment, unsure of what to do. She looked down at the body, sadly.   
“I hope you weren't too attached to him,” Mickey said to the girl, who refused to tear her eyes away from the body  
“No, not in the slightest. Actually, I was hoping to be the one who ended him” she confessed in a slight accent.   
“You could shoot him if you’d like” Mickey offered with a laugh. She looked at him confused.   
“I don’t know how to use your weapons. Though, would you mind if I got your to floor dirty?” She asked, rather politely for someone who just witnessed a murder.   
“Pretty bird, the floor’s already covered in blood. Have at it” he said in earnest. She nodded in thanks.   
“You may wish to look away,” she warned. Ashes snorted. They had seen worse. Shrugging at them, the girl bent down, her red hair spilled over her shoulder. With one final look at Mickey and Ashes, she plunged her long claw-like nails into the chest cavity of the doctor and ripped his heart out. Blood splattered onto her white dress, looking like embers flying through the sky. She dropped the heart on the floor, and gently closed the man’s eyes.  
Ashes stood, speechless. Mickey was laughing like a maniac.   
“Well, pretty bird, I think I may just have a use for you yet. Why don’t you run along with Ashes here, and they’ll get you all settled in” He said, turning towards the main door. The other five people followed behind him, leaving the arsonist and the angel in the room.   
“Right then,” they said, walking towards a smaller, secret passage door. Mickey would not have appreciated them parading around bloodied in the hotel for guests to see. The girl jogged to catch up, limping slightly but kept pace right behind Ashes as they walked through the dimly lit hallway.  
“Do you have a name? I think ‘pretty bird’ is going to stick, but it’d be nice to know your real name”   
The girl thought for a moment, then shook her head.   
“No, my name can be pronounced in your tongue. I’m not sure I want it, anyway” she spat out in a flowery voice. Ashes thought for a moment as they walked. They reached the end of the hallway, which led to Ashes’ room in the hotel. They looked out at Malone’s city skyline through the large window wall, hands behind their back. The girl leaned against the doorframe, bloody arms crossed.   
“What about Ember?” they suggested, sparing a glance back to the girl. Her brows were furrowed in confusion.   
“I’m not sure I've heard that word before” she stated. Ashes raised their eyebrows.   
“You know, the tiny glowing things that come out of fire?” the described. The girl thought for a moment, then started to nod slowly. A smile crept across her face.   
“Yes,” she said, going further into the room “Yes, I think that will do nicely”   
“Well then,” they said, extending a hand “it’s nice to meet you, Ember”   
The girl took their hand, bloodying it in a firm handshake.   
“It’s lovely to meet you too, Ashes”   
And just then, when Ember smiled at them, Ashes swore to this day that the city lights glowed a little brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammarly failed on me, so I apologize for the atrocious use of commas!


	3. Tim, it's been three years- three millennium- and not once have I seen you flirt like a normal human

Ashes came back to themself after a while, with Marius already awake, just laying on the floor.   
“He didn’t even let me get to the punchline” he whines at the ceiling. Ashes shakes their head at his dramatics, letting the memory sink in further. They stumble up, blood now dripping off their clothes. Reaching the counter, they look to see if the image they had seen before getting shot had remained the same. Some small piece of insanity told them that it was just a trick of the eye and that their memory was just filling in the gaps of a blurry photo. Yet, when they look down, they find that the picture remains the same: with Ember, smiling brightly into the camera, looking no older than the day she died.   
“This can’t be happening. She can’t be real” Ashes whispers. They can feel themselves start to spiral, into what, they don’t know. Marius by now has sat up and joins Ashes at the bar.  
“What’d you say there, Ashes?” He asks, grabbing a drink left behind by a fleeing patron.   
“I need to find her” they claim, aggressively pointing their finger onto the image. He hums, leaning in closer to inspect the picture.  
“Well, no shit” he snorts, downing the drink, “Did you not hear what the bartender said? That’s the owner of the bar where that special alcohol is sold. So yeah, we need to find her, preferably before Jonny does; I have a bet with Nastya that we could get it before Jonny did, and I'd like to win that one.”   
Ashes shakes their head again, thinking up words on how to explain the sheer insanity of the situation they’re in.   
“No Marius, you don’t get it, I need to find her! It’s been so long, and I need to see if that’s really her” they ramble out. Not the most coherent sentence, but they are far past the point of caring right now. “You said the man claimed she owned a bar? We need to go there. Now.”   
And with that, they march towards the front door, a heavily confused Marius hot on their heels.   
“Woah, Ashes, slow down, you’re not making anything close to sense. Do you know her? Is this some sort of revenge thing?” he hounds as the pair make their way out onto the street. Night had long since fallen, and the air had turned a crisp cold signature to winter. Ashes, it seems, is too fired up to notice the biting chill.   
“I think I know her, however impossible that might be. And, no, it’s not some revenge thing, it’s- I don’t know what it is, but we’ll find out when we find Ember” they say frantically, speedily walking through the streets, heading back towards the town square. Marius, who had been practically jogging to keep up with the quartermaster, stops, grabs their shoulder, and forces them to face him.   
“Who the flying fuck is Ember?!” he shouts, particularly fed up with the cryptic answers.   
“The girl in the photo, Marius! Have you not been paying attention at all?” they scream back, throwing their hands in the air. He threw his own hands up in response. By now, the shouting match and bloodied clothes had gained the attention of a few passerby's, who began to whisper.   
“But that’s not what the bartender called her!”  
Ashes’ face falls, arms returning to their side slowly. Doubt starts to creep into their mind; maybe they had been wrong, and this was all one sick, twisted, misunderstanding. The universe was rather fucked up like that.   
“What,” they say with an icy calm “did he say her name was?”   
Marius, to his credit, just rubs his hands over his face, attempting to enjoy the emotional roller coaster he’s strapped to.   
“I-fuck, give me a minute to remember. It wasn’t Ember, I know that much. Just, one moment”   
Ashes waits a moment, nervously tapping their fingers.  
Right then, however, a flurry of movement happened right over their heads, too fast for their eyes to see in the dim night. A gust of wind splits between the two a moment later, caring with it two things. The first being the smell of campfire smoke, and the second, a hand-sized feather, falling between the pair. They watch wordlessly as it falls, ever so slowly, onto the sidewalk. Letting out a shaky breath, Ashes picks up the soft feather. In their hands, they can tell it’s identical to the ones they have tucked away in their own quarters, under their bed. They hold it to their nose briefly. The faintest smell of sweet smoke fills their lungs, bringing to their face a soft smile.   
They didn’t care if Marius remembers the name or not, their hopes had risen once more. 

Now, some time prior, on the eastern side of the city, the loveable bartender, Teddy, finishes his retelling of this.   
“And then the odd fellow, a baron he claimed, started to wake up, the other one not far behind him. So, I shot them both three more times in the head, and ran like a bat out of hell,” he concludes, taking the last swing of his gin. Both Phoenix and Finch look at the hulking man, concerned, but Brian just holds his head in his hands over his untouched drink, and groans.   
“I am so very sorry about their behavior,” he says, muffled by his own hands. The trio gives him a strange look, already piecing together what he’s implying.   
“Don’t tell me you’re with those fuckers” Phoenix asks, despondent.   
“Sadly, yes” Brian matches her tone, sounding equally as hopeless, “those would be two members of my crew, and they were supposed to be nice on this trip. I’ll talk to them about that later. Point is, we can’t exactly die, so apologies for the fright. And the attempted robbery”   
Finch, by this point, has started to pour themselves a drink, topping off the two existing ones already while they were at it.   
“I knew I should have gone with Ashes, they always get to have all the fun” a voice complained from the floor. Finch and Phoenix let out a chorus of shrill screams, while Teddy sets his glass down so hard, it shatters.   
Jonny, who came back to himself halfway through the story, sits up from the floor, neck still bloodied, but intact.   
“I-I ripped your throat out” Nix gasps. Jonny gives the winged woman one of his signature feral grins.   
“That you did! Like the drumbot said, we can’t exactly die. I, my dear, am the captain of the crew, Jonny D’- oh fucking hell” he’s cut off by a loud bang, and a bullet from Teddy’s gun nestling its way into his brain. Brian sighs once more and takes a swing of the glass in front of him. Before anyone can make commentary on whatever the hell just happened, the phone behind the counter starts to ring. Mindlessly, Finch picks it up and answers,   
“Hello, Sparks saloon, how can I- Oh Atty, is that you?” she says, surprised. Phoenix perks up at the name in alarm. Looking at the phone, the dead man on the floor, and then to Teddy, she throws her head onto the counter in frustration.   
Of course, it was obvious. The other two bars in town were getting robbed, and so was hers. And her poor bartender, Atlas, was stuck with more of these maniacs.   
Muffled words come from the other end of the line.   
“I-uh, yes she’s here. I’m gonna put you on speaker, alright?” Finch soothes. More muffled words are spoken as they press a button on the console.   
“Hey, kiddo,” Phoenix says cautiously, “ Everything alright?”   
A pause of silence, ended by a deep inhale.   
“Well, no” the voice on the other end starts, slowly “There’s uh, some folks here who want to see you. I think you can guess what they want, and they’re quite adamant about it.”   
“Hello!” another, more chipper voice pipes through, followed by a much deeper voice saying some sort of greeting. Brian recognizes that as Raphaella and Tim, respectively.   
“More of yours?” Phoenix bites out. Brian hangs his head, nodding.   
“More of my what?” the voice, Atlas, questions.   
“Nothing, sweetheart. Did they hurt you?” she asks in a calm manner.   
“No, they didn’t hurt me, though I’m a little tied up at the moment. Lovely knotsmanship, I must say.”   
Leave it to Atlas to figure out a way to compliment the people robbing him.   
“They tied you up? Who the hell-ok, you know what? Can they hear me?”   
“We can hear you, yes” Tim’s voice comes through. Brian figures they had lost Ivy along the way.   
“Great” Phoenix growls out, venom seeping from her words, “I will be there in five minutes. If I return and my kid is hurt in any way, I will not hesitate to do what I did to your friend here, and much, much more”   
“We look forward to it!” Raphaella’s sing-song voice says before the line is cut off. Finch places the phone back in its cradle.   
“I gotta go. Anytime the dead man comes back to life, shoot him. And if the other two show up, leave out the back door, got it? I don’t want either of you engaging with them. And you, metal man” she says, twisting around to pierce him with a stern gaze. “You won’t be any trouble, right?”   
Brian shakes his head, holding his hands up in defense.   
“No, I don’t have anything to do with this particular situation; I’m just here because I have to be,” he sighs. She nods in understanding, then heads for the front door.   
“Be safe out there!” Finch calls out. She yells back some affirmation before launching into the sky on sturdy wings.   
She flies swiftly, frantically taking familiar streets back to her tavern.   
Now, I'll spare you the details of what happened while Marius was getting shot, Ashes was having a crisis, and Jonny was getting his throat ripped out, as they aren’t all that important, and downright atrocious. Let’s just say that Tim’s flirting had quickly turned into an argument, which had led to Raphaella finding a thing of rope, leading to Atlas being tied to a bar chair.  
So, here we are, with the door of the Inferno being slammed open by a disheveled and pissed Ember. What greets her is two strangers, one with metal eyes, the other with metal wings- she’d have to ask about that later- standing over a chair bound and pale-faced Atlas.   
“Ah, hello there! You must be the-” The winged one starts.   
“Atlas, darling” Phoenix interrupts, “close your eyes for me”   
He rolls his eyes before shutting them with a huff. The winged one’s face scrunches with confusion.   
“Why would he have to close his- oh I see,” she says as the bar owner strides up to Tim and, without missing a beat, plunges her hands into his throat, ripping his windpipe out. She wipes her hands across her mouth, blooding her lips and cheeks. Her deranged gaze is then set on Raphaella, who grins at the challenge.   
It has been a long, long time since she’d last fought one of her own kind. Well, half, seeing as Raphaella herself was half-human. This girl, however, appears to be a full-blooded Aviax, and the doctor was very excited to see what exactly she was capable of.   
She moves fast, lunging at the mad scientist, but Raphaella is prepared, sidestepping, and tripping her opponent in the process. The girl back flaps, futally, before hitting the floor with a thud. Raphaella pins her down by placing a single hand in the middle of the girl’s back. The girl’s wings tense, going stiff at the contact. Raphaella knew exactly where to place her hands, the girl concludes. She was about to let out a rainbow of colorful words, but the door bursts open, cutting her off.   
“Raph, Tim! You wouldn’t believe what I’ve just discovered!” Ivy shouts from the doorway. She pauses for a moment, taking in the scene in front of her.   
Tim lays dead, throat ripped out, on the floor next to the man from earlier, tied to a chair, humming some song, peacefully. Raphaella has a girl covered in blood, Phoenix, she recognizes, pinned to the floor of the bar. Tim’s blood, if she were to guess. Nobody speaks for a long moment.   
That moment, however, is just enough time for Phoenix to twist around under Rapaella’s string hold, and plunge her hand into the doctor’s chest cavity. She goes still, tumbling off of the bar owner to the floor, bleeding out. Ivy stares in shock. This wasn’t at all what she was expecting, given Adrian’s description of Phoenix maybe half an hour or so ago.   
“Well, that sounded messy. Can you untie me now?” The man in the chair asks, eyes still sealed shut. This is enough to snap Ivy out of her confusion. Pulling her gun from under her skirt, she aims at Phoenix, and fires. The bullets land true, one landing in her shoulder, the other directly into her brain. She crumples in a heap of red, dark blood mixing with the color of her hair.   
The man’s eyes shoot open at the loud noise, and he looks to Ivy, unimpressed.   
“Well, that wasn’t very smart,” he says, looking around the room. Ivy shrugs, reholstering her gun.   
“I suppose not, no”   
It was then, by some cosmic powers, that Ashes and Marius arrived at the tavern, bursting open the doors in a wild flurry. Ivy, understandably startled, jumps away from the doorway to allow the two in.   
The scene itself was quite odd. Tim lay on the floor, glassy eyes gazing off into the oblivion, his throat ripped cleanout; Above him, a small man is bound to a less than sturdy looking chair, gazing at them with wild eyes. Not even five feet away, Raphaella is sprawled out, dead, almost mirroring the figure next to her, also very dead.   
Ashes’ heart drops as they gaze upon the face staring, unblinking, at the doorway, a bullet nestled in her head. They let out a sound that resembles a strangled sob as they race up to her corpse, and cradle her limp head in their lap. They gaze down at the face they’ve longed for for three millennia now, the bitter memory of the last time they saw their love resurfacing in their brain. 

They had done it. They had finally confronted their uncle- no, no now he was just Mickey. They expected him to be scared, to be anything but this. Instead of denying the accusation, or even trying to silence them, he just laughed. And then he started saying all this stuff, and it was painfully clear that they had been set up; framed by the one they considered family. Betrayal to the sevens had hurt like a bitch when they had found out, but his betrayal to them had hurt so much worse.   
“Looks like you’re out of luck, Ashes,” he said, sauntering towards the door of the already burning building.   
“And what exactly, pray tell, is keeping me from just walking out of the burning building?” they asked sarcastically. He laughed, a deep, dark, menacing laugh, and some part of Ashes knew that this wasn’t going to be good.  
“Well you see Ashes, you always were a bright kid, and this plan wasn’t entirely foolproof so,” he announced dramatically, swinging open the simple door to the room, “I added a few precautions.”   
As the door flew open, a figure was shoved into the room. Ashes immediately recognized Ember, clutching her stomach as she stumbled in. After a few shaky steps, the girl sank to her knees, wings draped behind her. Even in the poorly lit room, Ashes could see red seeping through her delicate fingers.  
“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Ember” Mickey called over his shoulder “but, you know that they say: birds of a feather stick together!” his maniacal laughter followed him out, ceasing only when he shut the door, liting it on fire behind him.   
“No” they whispered, running up to where Ember sat hunched over on the floor. They whispered it over and over, cupping her face in their hands. She just smiled, at them, pained. She slumped forward, no longer able to hold herself up. They place her head in their lap, letting her lay down to slow the bleeding. It was a familiar position for the pair, with one of Ember’s wings splayed out, the other tucked securely into her side so she could fit comfortably into their lap. She opened her eyes once more to look up at her lover’s face. They smiled for her as she traced a shaky hand down their cheek, whipping away stray tears. Smoke had started to fill the room in enerest, the fire not far behind it.   
“Hey, love?” she said quietly. Ashes had sobbed even harder at that and brushed their fingers through her red hair.   
“Yes, my flame?” She smiled at the name, eyes starting to brim with tears. Her eyes had started to turn glassy.   
“Can I ask you a favor?” she asked, head lolling slightly to the side.   
“Of course, anything” They lied as they ran their hands down her cheek.   
“Live,” she said, weakly grabbing their hand in her own, “My life may be at its end, but yours isn’t. No, you still have a very long life ahead of you. They will love you, maybe not as I had, but you will be loved. And you will see a million, beautiful things in your life, and I’m so sorry I won’t be able to see them with you” a smile danced at her lips, a secret she alone knew and would take to her fiery grave.   
“Alright, I think I can manage that,” they said, entirely untrue, “And I will tell you all about the beautiful things I will see; I’ll write songs about them for you”   
“I think I’d like that” She whispered, her voice growing weaker. Blood had, by then, pooled on the floor below them, and the fire had started to engulf the outskirts of the room.   
“I love you, Ashes” she declared and gripped their hand with the little strength she had left.   
“I love you too, Ember” they whispered back. But that’s not what broke their heart that day. No, it wasn’t their uncle’s betrayal or the dying statement of love. What broke their heart was when Ember started to hum a soft melody. They started to sob openly at that point. The song they recognized as one that the two of them had made in their early years together. They had never put any lyrics to it; She said it never needed any. Whenever one of them was sad, the other would sing it, or play it on some instrument or another.   
Not too long passed before the humming died out, the fire in Ember’s eyes fading with it. Ashes just clutched onto her. Smoke had filled the room by then, the heat of the flames scorching their skin.   
I think you know the rest well enough: Some tired-looking goth and a drunk cowboy came from the skies, promising eternal life. Ashes didn’t put the pieces together about what Ember had said till many, many centuries later, far after it mattered at that point. So, they took the doctor’s hand; They had a promise to keep, after all. 

So, now here Ashes sits, in some old tavern on some backwater planet in an unpleasantly familiar position.   
“Ashes,” Ivy starts, confused “why are you crying? She’ll be fine, she’s im-” Ivy was cut off by the quartermaster shooting her in the head. Then they shoot Marius as if that will make them feel better. A moment of silence passes, and at some point both Raphaella and Tim come back to themselves, watching in confusion as they weep over the girl’s corpse. Ashes O’Reilly, badass mobster space arsonist, Ashes O’Reilly, was sobbing their heart out over a dead girl. Tim and Raphaella opt to say nothing, as they saw where that got Ivy and Marius.   
Again, the cosmic forces of the universe played their next hand as Brian pokes his head into the bar. He whispers something to someone outside, and a group of four people shuffles in past the bodies blocking the doorway. Jonny, Brian, Finch, and Teddy, all stand awkwardly in the main tavern room, sharing confused glances.   
“Why the fuck are they crying?” Finch asks Atlas, who’s still bound to the chair. Nobody, it seems, has an answer.   
For you see, literally everyone besides Ashes at this point has been clued into the fact that Phoenix, Ember, whatever you want to call her, has a very important trait; One that the Mechanisms are far too familiar with.   
While Ashes had been crying, through their tears they had failed to notice the wound on their love’s head sealing shut, the bullet falling to the floor with a soft clank. It’s only when she draws in a deep, shaky breath that they notice the body in their arms is no longer dead. Their face, Jonny notices, quickly goes from pain to confusion, to downright terror. They look like they’d seen a ghost. Amusing, most of the crew would find it later.   
Ember wakes to something soft underneath her head, and her face wet. Not the worst way she’s woken up, but odd to say the least. Fluttering her eyes open, she notices a figure hanging above her, blocking out the orange lights of the tavern. She remembers her drying now, another one of those damn pirates coming in out of nowhere and shooting her. She’d return the favor later. For now, her eyes adjust to the harsh lights, taking in the image of who’s above her.   
What she sees, she can’t even seem to comprehend. And neither can Ashes.   
The pair sit like this for a good, long moment, just blinking back and forth at one another, computing.   
Finally, Ember figures it out first. She is laying in the arms of her love, the person she has been missing, longing for for a terribly long time. And so, she does what any reasonable person who sees the love they had lost some three millennia ago would do.   
She screams bloody fucking murder.


	4. You can't just kidnap people, Ashes, it'll make the kid cry more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a long fucking talk is had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter is kinda just a filler, and it's very dialogue-heavy. If you feel so inclined to skip it, you can, and I'll leave an abbreviated version at the bottom. But, if you'd like to sit through my almost 4,000 words of rambling, you're more than welcome to! Unlike my other chapters, there will be no flashback scene, so there's that. Anyway, Enjoy!!!

That was not the way Ember had intended to reanimate. To be fair, she was expecting to just wake up on the bar floor (as she has done countless times before) where she had been killed. She reminds herself to properly return the favor to that particular space pirate later. What she had not expected, however, was to wake in the arms of her lover who had died some three thousand years ago. When she awoke, some small part of her thought she was back in the fire again on the night she died the first time, as if the past three millennia had been nothing but one hell of a fever dream. Slowly though, she regained her sense and recognized that she was in the bar that she owned, on the planet she has been on for the past three hundred years.   
So, here she is, screaming her lungs out at a ghost of her past, trying her damndest to rationalize what could possibly be happening. A small voice in her brain clues her in that it might have something to do with the immortal space pirates, but she’s far too overwhelmed to care. Once she acknowledges what she sees, her mind starts to come up with possible solutions; the most likely being that this was not her Ashes. Sure, the possibility of someone identical to her dead love, being on this exact planet was some fraction far too close to zero to make this real; Yet lady fate was quite the bitch. Her mind decides for now that this is not her Ashes and that waking up in the arms of the crying individual was merely a cruel coincidence.   
“Ember?” the individual asks in a quiet voice, only meant for her to hear.   
She throws that theory out the window- along with the little scrap of sanity that clung to it.   
Scrambling from their arms, Phoenix- Ember- scoots back across the cold wood floor and stands on shaky legs. Ashes, now with an empty lap, rises slowly, never breaking eye contact with the girl.   
It’s then that they start to notice the slight differences: the extended canines, longer fingers, and the most notable, the golden circles that replace where pupils should go. Ember, to their recollection, anyway has- had black pupils, same as any human. The girl in front of them has pupils like that of warm honey, making her appearance slightly less human than Ember’s had been when paired with the longer canines. They find it disturbing; beautiful, but disturbing, like looking into the eyes of a taxidermied animal.   
The room is tense, to say the least. Both the Mechanisms and barkeeps have come to the silent conclusion of a truce, both parties equally invested at the scene unfolding in front of them. Not that either Ashes nor Ember cares to notice. No, they were in a world of their own, a sort of cosmic dance to navigate what to do. Ember still just stares at them, unsure.   
“Ember, my little flame, say something” they whisper frantically, “anything. Please”   
Well, that was a new one. Ashes has their little names for their crew: love, darling, little mouse, cruel angel, to name a few. Never have any of them heard the name ‘little flame’. It’s a bit of information Ivy tucks away to be cataloged in her personal files for later.   
Now you see, Ivy was the only one who actually knew what’s going on here. Well, Nastya as well, to some extent, but she’s not here right now. For, on one cold night on the aurora, before Marius, before Raphaella, hell even before Tim and Brian, a drunk and despondent Ashes waltzed into her library and asked Ivy to write down a story. And so, Ashes spilled their heart out, telling the archivist the story of their love, in all it’s beauty and it’s tragic ending. When Ivy asked why, Ashes just shrugged and said that they didn’t want to forget, so she left it at that. As time went on, and more people were being added to the crew, Ashes never spoke about her again; at least to Ivy’s knowledge, anyway. Healing, she would assume.   
But this? This event could be catastrophic.   
“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, mate,” the man tied to the chair interrupts, “but I think you got the wrong gal. That’s Phoenix”   
This seems to snap Phoenix out of her daze, and she lets her eyes survey the room, then land back on Ashes, narrowing slightly.   
“It’s been three thousand years” she finally breathes out. Ashes nods, taking a small step closer.   
“I know”   
“You died” she whispers, more to herself than anyone else.  
“Yes, and so did you” they reply, taking two more hesitant steps forward. By now, they’re only a few feet away from her, yet she makes no move to back up. Nobody says a word; Even Atlas keeps his mouth shut for once. Raphaella and Ivy share glances in silent communication.   
“How?”   
It was a simple enough question, yet Ashes hasn’t the first clue on how to answer it. They extend a hand.  
“Maybe we should sit down-”  
“How, Ashes” She interrupts, finally looking at their face. They can see tear marks that have carved a path through the blood dried on her face. “How the hell are you here?”   
Letting out a shaky sigh, they place their extended hand back at their side.  
“Shortly after you died, just as I was about to die, a doctor showed up” they let out a hitched breath, “She promised me eternal life. I asked if she could take you too, but she said you were already too far gone. She did as she promised and gave me an eternal life; she did it to all of us”   
Nothing but hatred filled their voice. They left out the part where the good doctor had said that the winged girl wasn’t worth her time, either. Glancing over their shoulder, Ashes notices one of the strangers freeing the bound man from his chair. They look at all their crewmates, in a silent plea to do something. They return back to the girl in front of them when she starts to mumble something softly.   
“I can’t hear what you’re saying, my flame. Please talk to me” they say gently. She looks at them, wide eyes glazed over.   
“You did it,” she starts, a crazed smile morphing on her face “You actually fucking did it. I asked you to live, and by the gods' Ashes O’Reilly, you lived”   
Laughter starts to spill out of her now, not of joy but of hysteria. She clutches her head, continuing to laugh as tears spill down her face, turning red by the blood smeared on her face.   
The rest of the Mechanisms don’t seem to be bothered by this display of madness, they’re more confused than anything. Phoenix’s friends, on the other hand, look disturbed beyond words. It’s finally Finch, ever the mediator, who treads lightly up towards their friend, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. Phoenix slowly stops laughing, the touch grounding her slightly. She looks over to Finch with puffy eyes, the smile fading.   
“Phoenix, honey, let’s go sit down for a second, ok?” they suggested, guiding their friend over towards a table. She nods numbly, sitting down on a rickety chair. Teddy places nine more chairs around the circular table, inviting everyone to sit. The crew sits on one side, with Ashes being directly across from Ember; on the other side sits her friends. A silent standoff is held.   
“I’ll go make some drinks” Atlas announces, still rubbing his wrists. Phoenix, coming out of her mania, looks at him with tired eyes and nods. He starts to count the people silently, before pausing at Raphaella. He looks down at Phoenix.   
“Should I give her angles blood or…?” he trails off.   
“Oh, um” Phoenix stutters, looking Raphaella up and down from across the table, “Um, yes. Though, only a quarter of a shot mixed in; she’s a halfbreed, so while it’ll affect her more than it does me, it’ll still be more effective for humans.”   
“Quarter of a shot got it” he mutters, wandering behind the counter.   
Silence reigns over the group once more. Tim fiddles with his hair, Jonny eyeing the big guy to the girl’s left. Raphaella simply leans into Ivy, who watches the strangers with interest. Ashes says nothing and just stares at Ember, whose head is in her hands.   
Ember drags her hands over her face, wiping away tears leftover from her madness.   
“Ok then, crazy doctor lady makes you and a questionable group of individuals an immortal space pirates. Yeah, ok, cool, that makes perfect fucking sense.” she groans.   
“And how exactly did you live then huh?” Jonny bites back. Ashes contemplates pulling out their gun, whilst Brain elbows the first mate in the ribs. With his metal arms, he might have just cracked a few. Jonny slumps in his chair, muttering curses.   
“I didn't,” she says, haunted. “No, I didn’t live. I died in that fiery building, my body burnt and charred. Yet, somehow- don’t ask me how, I have no idea- I woke up some days later, under some debris. I looked in the mirror, noticed that my eyes had changed, as well as my teeth, but I was otherwise still me. And then the planet started to burn”   
Her ramble is cut short by a dawning realization crossing her face.   
“That’s why you looked familiar” she realizes, looking at Jonny “I saw you dumping kerosine on Malone that day. You told me to get the hell outta dodge if I knew what was good for me. Oh my god, that was you”   
Jonny had been too drunk that day to remember much of anything, and the years that have passed since then snuff any memory out like a candle. Before he could acknowledge this, Atlas blissfully returns with drinks. He places glasses of whiskey down in front of everyone, saving Raphaella’s for last. Her’s is tinged a slight iridescent purple. She inspects it, eyes lighting up with recognition, taking a tentative sip. She beams over at Phoenix.   
“Aliniam wine?” she questions. Phoenix looks surprised.  
“More like aliniam vodka. I’m surprised, most half breeds I’ve met were born off-planet and have no idea what aliniam is,” she confesses, swirling her own drink. Her bearings seem to be most back, but her hands still shake. Raphaella shakes her head.  
“I was born about a century after humans arrived on-planet; I remember aliniam very well.” She muses, thinking back on wild nights. Tame in comparison to the shit she and the crew do now, but the memories still hold their mortal charm. Phoenix just looks at her with tired eyes, raises her glass, and downs the liquid.   
“Damn I’ve gotten old, then” Phoenix mutters. Doing some mental math with that information, Phoenix comes to the conclusion that she must be roughly three hundred years older than the scientist. She would laugh at the sheer insanity of it all if it weren't for the whole immortal thing.   
The table fell into an almost comfortable silence, slowly drinking in the information and the drinks themselves. Raphaella, at least, seems pleased by the alcohol from her home planet. Nobody says a word, instead favoring to share glances at one another around the room.   
Luckily for literally everyone, the door to the tavern swings open at the hands of a very tired and cold looking Adrian. Shutting the door behind her, the tall woman pauses for a moment, looking understandably confused by the scene in front of her. Finch lights up at the sight of her, Teddy gives her a nod, and Ivy flashes a small smile in her general direction.   
“Well this is most certainly unexpected,” she says slowly while placing her coat on a spare chair “Miss Alexandria, it's a pleasure to see you again, as well as you two- oh God Phoenix, are you ok?” She looks to where Phoenix has her head clutched in her hands, resting her elbows on the tabletop. Looking up, the winged girl gives her a short laugh.   
“Absolutely not” was her only response before slamming her head down onto the table with a groan. Adrian simply nods, casting confused glances at Finch, who pulls a chair to nestle between their and Teddy’s seats. Taking the hint, Adrian takes a seat gingerly. Finch, bless their soul, nudges their untouched glass towards their librarian, who gulps it down in the swing.   
“Alright, can someone explain what's going on here?” Adrian asks no one in particular.   
All eyes turn to Phoenix, but her head remains firmly pressed to the table in her arms. Next, they look towards Ashes, who simply shakes their head; they may be handling this better than their little flame, sure, but that by no means indicates they were processing this enough to tell a coherent story. So Jonny, in his usual fashion, starts the story off.   
“I suppose it all started some three millennia ago, on a crime-ridden planet called Malone; home to the meanest group of mobsters you’ve ever seen…”   
And so, he tells the story, with various mechanisms and barkeeps interrupting to contribute their side of the story. Hell, even Ashes pipes in every once and awhile. Atlas pours more drinks at some point during the narration and compliments Tim on his rope work from earlier. That earned the small man a blush from Tim, which, in turn, caused multiple parties to gag. Adrian nods every once in a while, ever the good audience. Finch leans their head on her shoulder, chiming in as needed.   
“And so there Tim was, laying on the floor, blood oozing from his throat. Raphaella slain not even five feet from him, the heart is torn from her chest; All at the hands of the third dead body in the room: Our dear Phoenix here. Or Ember, depending on who you ask.” he pauses with a wild gesture towards the girl in question. Jonny is panting from the long story, as he holds the ridiculous pose pointing at the small girl. Phoenix doesn’t even make a sound of acknowledgment. The group exchange worried glances.   
Teddy gently places his massive head against her back, listening. A small smile graces his lips as he pulls away again.   
“She’s asleep. Must have passed out at some point” he whispers, softly running a massive hand up and down the girl’s back. Her wings droop at her side like wilted plants.   
At his words, both Ashes and Atlas snort and say in almost perfect unison,  
“She does that when she’s stressed” The pair look at one another in distrust, with Atlas scooting his chair closer to her. Ashes takes another sip of their drink, holding his gaze.   
“Well then!” Adrian exclaims, clapping her hands together “That’s quite the story!”  
“Indeed. Now, if you’d please tell us where she lives, we can get moving” Ashes drawls out, finishing their drink. Finch, Teddy, Adrian, and Atlas share confused glances at one another.   
“What are you implying here?” Teddy asks suspiciously. Ashes lights a cigar they manifested from their pocket.   
“Well, we’re going to grab her stuff once she wakes up. She’ll be joining us from now on; Unless anyone has any opposition to this?” They claim, glancing at their crewmates. Raphaella mutters something about testing Aviax wings, ivy shrugs indifferently, Marius looks delighted to have someone new to analyze, Brian has just given up by this point, Tim nods stoically, and Jonny just gives the quartermaster a feral grin. They’re not too sure what that's supposed to mean, but they don’t think it’s a no. In short, most of the Mechanisms support this. The barkeeps, however, look appalled.   
“Um, no?” Finch says, offended, “absolutely not? You can’t just waltz in here and expect to whisk away our friend. The hell kind of fucked up logic brought you to that conclusion?”   
This, naturally, causes a shouting match. Hands are thrown about, words stampeding over one another, guns are being drawn, and somewhere in there, Jonny is laughing maniacally. At the crescendo of the argument, Atlas, tears streaming down his face, cries out,   
“You can’t just take her from us, that’s not fair”   
It’s then that Phoenix shoots up, alert as ever. The room falls silent, all eyes turning to her. She looks around, a little out of sorts, but clarity hits as she sees Ashes. They smile at her through the cigar in their teeth. Out of some old habit, she gives them a lopsided smile in return.   
Ashes would never admit to it, but their heart fluttered at that smile.   
When Phoenix’s eyes reach Atlas, her face fell, and she stands up to cup his face, wiping away stray tears with her thumbs.   
“Atlas, baby, what’s wrong?” she asks in a soothing tone. He hiccups a bit, tears still flowing.   
“They wanna- they wanna take you away” he cries. She gives him a little smile, letting her thumbs rub soothing circles on his cheeks.   
“Oh?” she questions, slightly amused. Ashes almost smile at the sight; Ember always had been a rather nurturing person, something they were glad to see hasn’t changed over the years. Atlas just sobs harder, making less sense at this point.   
“And-And, they said they want to pack your stuff up to leave tonight” he chokes out. Phoenix’s face falls, a menacing glare setting over her face.   
“Is that so?” she asks, her voice laced with venom. She curls her lip back, giving the crew a snarl. Tim found it cute, given her small stature.   
“We never said anything about taking her tonight. Just sometime relatively soon” Tim clarifies. This, however, did not help the situation. The kid cries harder, Teddy’s face gets redder, Finch grips the table so hard it starts to crack, and Adrian's jaw is clenched so hard, Marius is surprised she hasn’t broken any teeth.   
Phoenix lets out a thoughtful, still slightly pissed, hum before turning her attention back to Atlas. A loving smile replaces her icy glare.  
“Atlas, honey, how about you go upstairs for the night. Take Adrian and Finch with you, how’s that sound?” she murmurs in a soft tone. His eyes widen slightly as he starts to panic again.  
“But they’ll take you!” he wails despondently. She shakes her head.  
“No, honey” she chuckles lightly “they won’t, I promise. You heard what they said, if I was going to leave, it won’t be tonight. Now can you go upstairs for me, please?” He hesitates, but nods slowly, and turns to go towards a door in the back. Finch follows close behind, Adrian on their heels. Phoenix grabs Adrain’s arm, whispering something softly into her ear. The librarian gives a curt nod before following the pair up the stairs.  
Once the trio disappears, Phoenix's smile falls. She leans into Teddy, almost comically small next to his large frame. She looks tired, worn thin from the day’s events. The bear if a man guides her to a chair, which she collapses into. He stands behind her, crossing his arms in a defensive stance. The mechanisms stand around the other side of the table, gazing down at the small figure. The smell of cigar smoke and whiskey hangs heavy in the air.   
“No” she mumbles, looking down at the dark oak table. Ashes lifts an eyebrow, taking another drag of their cigar.   
“No, what?” they prod. She looks up, giving them a gaze of pure flame and fury.   
“No, I will not be packing my things and joining you, in case you were going to ask” she sneers. Ashes nods their head while everyone else sucks in a breath, holding it.   
“I had a feeling you might say that” they sigh, leaning onto the table, “But I really would implore you to reconsider”   
The girl weighs her options in her head, tilting it back and forth as she does.   
“Ashes, seeing you here, alive, is a lot to take in,” she says slowly “And now you’re asking me to join you with a group of people I’ve never met and leave behind the town I’ve been watching over for the past three hundred years? I’m sure you can understand why I'm not leaping at the opportunity here” Some small part of Ashes could understand; probably the only still mortal part in their consciousness. However, three thousand years of immortality tends to skew a person’s concept of time, death, and loyalties. Sure, Ashes is deeply loyal to their crew, but those bastards we’re eternal, just as they were, a constant in life (and death most of the time). Those Ember surrounded herself with, on the other hand, are mortal, here and gone just like that.   
“I understand that, but we’d give you time to say goodbye, obviously,” they argue. Phoenix sighs twisting her eyes shut in contemplation.   
“One week-” she starts.   
“Well that seems awfully fast but ok, the sooner the better” Jonny interrupts, crossing his arms with a huff. Phoenix just glares daggers at him, then turns her attention back to the quartermaster.   
“One week to decide. One week from today, sundown, in the town square; you’ll have my answer then” She declares, leaving no room for argument. Ashes takes another long drag of their cigar, musing to themself.   
“Fair enough. And if you refuse the offer? I won’t exactly see no as a fit answer” they remark, looking directly into Ember’s eyes. They smile slightly as they see the eternal fire smoldering behind them. A challenge.   
“If I refuse, then I stay, simple as that. If I ever feel the desire to leave this planet, maybe I’ll consider tracking you and your crew down, though that’ll be a few centuries at least” she bites out. Teddy places a soft hand on her shoulder, tense as he is. Raphaella, Ivy, and Tim look intrigued as to where this is going to go, whereas Brian and Marius hold concerned looks on their faces. Jonny just looks bored.   
“Well I don’t like the sounds of that” Ashes replies, leaning so their face in halfway across the table, “I think, that if you do refuse- it’d be a shame if you did- that we’re going to handle it the Malone way”   
“Ashes-” Phoenix warns, eyes narrowing  
“We handle it like the Sevens and Aces used too” they finish, a smug smirk gracing their lips. Breaking out of Teddy’s grasp, Phoenix shoves her face over the table, leaving meer inches between the lovers. Her lip curls back.   
“Like. Hell.” she snarls “that’s not fair! There is seven of you-”  
“Nine actually!” Tim chimes in helpfully.   
“There’s more of you fuckers?” Teddy groans out softly.  
“Fine- Nine of you, who are immortal for the god's sake, and only four of us, three of whom are mortal” Phoenix grinds out.   
“I thought there were five of you” Ivy comments. Drawing her eyes away from her love’s to focus on ivy, she softens her gaze slightly.   
“I won’t be including Atlas in this mess. No way in hell.” she asserts. Ivy simply nods and presses no further.   
“Can someone please explain the Malone way?” Brian questions hesitantly. Ashes doesn’t look away from Ember, who returns their gaze with a fiery one of their own.   
“The Malone way” they draw out “Is where we gather our friends, grab our guns, meet our rivals, and see who's left standing. One week from today, sundown, at the town square, as requested, of course.” The sound Phoenix lets out is nothing short of animalistic.   
Looking at the two of them, with one snarling and looking ready to rip someone’s throat out, while the other holds a cold, smug stare, you’d never guess they were lovers. That once, long, long ago, they’d give and do anything for each other. No, if someone were to look at them now, they’d think that the two had some deeply rooted hatred for one another.   
“It’s a deal” a new voice declares from behind the group. Turning around incredulously, Phoenix’s eyes fall on Adrian and Finch, who must have come down at some point.   
“That’s not your decision to make,” she says stubbornly. Adrian snorts, crossing her arms.  
“No, I think it is. You’ve done a lot for this town, for us. Let us do something for you” she vows, Finch nodding in agreement. She looks towards Teddy, who nods along with them.   
“You guys shouldn’t risk your lives for me” she pleads desperately.   
“It’s settled then!” Jonny announces gleefully, happy at the prospects of violence. Phoenix looks around the room one last time, eyes wide, pleading with anyone for some reasoning. She finds none.   
Finally, her wings droop and her face falls in defeat. She sinks back into the chair behind her.   
“I suppose it is,” she trembles. Happy with this resolution, Jonny marches out of the tavern, the rest of the crew following in suit. It’s only Ashes and Raphaella who remain, with the latter standing by the door, waiting. Ashes takes a few steps around the table and stands over Phoenix, her head lowered towards the floor. They cup her downcast face in their free hand, tilting it up slightly so they can look at her. They brush their thumb over her lips, noting the fire behind her eyes has dimmed, and a pained expression contorts her face. The smile slightly.   
“I’ve missed you” they whisper fondly. Ember says nothing, yet leans closes her eyes, and leans into the touch with a content sigh.   
Tracing their thumb over her cheek one last time, they turn towards the still open door, leaving the tavern, Raphaella closely following.   
Phoenix stands with a shaky breath, looking at the closed door.   
Come hell or high water, they were going to war. This is going to be a bloodbath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so summery: Ashes and Phoenix are reunited, much emotion is had, and the Mechanisms and the barkeeps sit down for a civil conversation on how they all got to this point. Each party retells their side of the story (though, that's not really written out in here) over some drinks. At the end of the retelling, The Mechanisms (read: Ashes) decide they want to take Phoenix with them. This upsets the Barkeeps and Pheonix who want to stick around this planet. But, after three thousand years of killing, burning, and pillaging, Ashes understanding of the word 'no' is a little skewed. So, a fight breaks out, a lovers quarrel is had, and it somehow draws to the decision of a western-styled 'high noon' shoot out in the town square a week from that day, at sunset. Onto the next chapter!


End file.
